Codys On Call Ch 03

I am losing my ability to cope. All I can think about is Cody. I've been locked in this chastity cage for almost a month, a cage Cody has the key to. A cage he locked me in because it amuses him, without bothering to ask my permission. My opinion on the matter wasn't important to him -- still isn't. I see that now. Each time I see him, I pray he will remove it, pray I will get some relief from the throbbing of my full, aching balls, but it never happens. Always, I show it to him, reminding him it's there, silently pleading with him to remove it, even for a moment. Even the brief chance to feel my dick get fully hard, free of this unyielding plastic prison, would be paradise. But each time he just laughs, then ignores both the cage and my pleas.

The cage remains a part of me, a part I hate, the extra weight between my legs a constant reminder of Cody, keeping me always right on the edge, always in a state of desperate need.

His use of me changes. At first, it was simple: he was a horny, busy, straight jock that liked getting his cock sucked, perhaps his feet massaged. But now, it's gone far beyond that. Each time he summons me, he pushes further, finds new ways to use me, new ways to test my devotion to him and the limits of my willingness to obey him. Each time he does, I am shocked at how far I will go, how much I am willing to put up with for the opportunity to worship his cock, for the opportunity to grovel at his feet and serve such a beautiful alpha male.

Previously, I knew what to expect. Now, I have no idea what he will demand when he summons me. But at least the summons come more often now. Several times a week, usually. Once, I was summoned twice in one day; first, in the evening, so he could feed me his cock and cum, then much later, right before he headed to bed. The second time he didn't even let me inside, just walked out to where I was kneeling on the patio and pulled out his cock. As soon as my mouth opened, he began to piss. The cruel bastard wouldn't even allow me to hold his cock in my mouth, but instead held it just out of reach. As soon as he was done, he unlocked my collar and sent me on my way. His message was clear: you are here to serve me, no matter how trivial my needs, any time, any way I want it. I drove forty minutes round trip in the middle of the night just to be his urinal, and didn't even get to touch his body.

I hate this treatment. At the same time, I love him for it. My need for him grows daily. The more he uses me, the more demanding he is, the more I crave him. And I hate that.

But I can't stop.

I want nothing more than to plead with him, to beg him with every fiber of my being to remove this horrible cage, to allow me to fully worship him the way I used to, but I know better than to speak in his presence. So instead, I send him the most pathetic texts in existence. Groveling. Promising. Begging like I never knew I could beg; begging to worship him like a god, begging to serve him, begging to suffer for him, if only he will allow me to, if only he will remove the cage so I can have my life back. I read these texts later, and I am ashamed of myself, disgusted by how sniveling and pathetic they make me sound. But I can't seem to stop myself from writing them. Every time I read them, I swear I will stop, will put an end to my virtual groveling. But then my balls start to throb with their unspent cum, and I find myself composing yet another pathetic text of submission, hoping it will convince Cody to have mercy on me.

But he never does.

I will do anything he wants. Anything. And he knows it. Then I realize: this is another lesson he is teaching me. Another of his wordless, practical, painful lessons in how to obey him. A lesson that pleasing him is all that matters.

Cody never deigns to respond to my messages. When he replies, it is only to summon me for more service. Never any words, just a time he wants me.

To him, I'm nothing more than a tool to use.

Then, the silence comes.

Two weeks, and nothing. No summons. I for him to use me, but nothing. I am out of my mind, both with horniness and with fear, fear that this is the end and my jock god has forsaken me.

My hormones rage, with no relief in sight. I have no idea when he will remove the cage, if ever. Perhaps this is forever? I shove that thought aside, unable to fathom what that would be like. Lately, the closest I can get to release is when he fucks me, when his thrusts milk some of the pent-up cum out of my balls, even though there is no pleasure in it, ejaculation with no climax. I am desperate for release. I buy a dildo, a big one that reminds me of Cody's cock, but without the perfection of size and shape his has. I ride the dildo, fucking myself with it, hoping it will scratch the itch deep inside me, but it's not the same. It only makes things worse, makes me crave the real thing even more. Despite that, I keep fucking myself with it. It's all I've got.

The silence finally ends one Saturday night, late. "Now," the message says. I rush right over. As usual, the patio is dark when I arrive, for which I am grateful. When he's feeling mean, Cody turns on the outside light, making sure I am even more exposed to anyone looking out their window. But tonight, I will be able to get undressed and collared in the dark as soon as my eyes adjust. I strip, then open the wooden chest, only to find a surprise: Cody has left handcuffs for me, right next to the collar. A tremor of fear goes through me. What does he have planned? The only other time he handcuffed me, he beat me with his belt. Nevertheless, my need quickly overrides my fear and better judgment. I secure the collar and lock my clothes in the chest, then snap the cuffs into place behind my back. I move to my usual spot to kneel and wait, but there is something in the way, something I can't quite make out in the darkness.

Then the lights come on. The outside light blinds me momentarily, exposing me to anyone who cares to look. Inside, Cody has turned on the living room light as well. I can see the couch has been turned to face the patio, and he is sitting there, watching me.

And he is not alone.

Another young guy sits next to him. I've never seen him before. He's athletic-looking, about Cody's age, only bigger. Maybe six foot or so, with broad shoulders. His dark blond hair sets off his big blue eyes. He's wearing a workout shirt and gym shorts, with a baseball cap on his head turned around backwards. He looks like a jock, like Cody, and he's staring at me with a sneer on his face.

I'm stunned and humiliated, being shown off like this. No. That's only partially accurate. The truth is, I'm fucking terrified. Terrified of being seen like this by another person, a stranger. This has always been a very private thing, just me and Cody, and I've done things for him and let him use me in ways I've never even considered with someone else. That's how bad my obsession for him is. Despite the constant threat of being seen by his neighbors out here on his patio each time I arrive, all of his use of me, all of the humiliating things he's put me through have been in the privacy of his apartment. Just our secret. What I like to think of as our private arrangement, even a relationship of sorts.

But not anymore.

I have no idea how to interpret this new development. Coming to terms with my own need for Cody's abuse was bad enough; now, he's putting that need on display, taking it out of the shadows and shining a light on it for his friend to see, making it entertainment for the two of them. It's like having to admit what I am, what I crave, all over again, only this time in front of a total stranger.

I am mortified. This blond guy, I realize, has never seen me before, never known me as a normal person. To him, I'm only what Cody has told him, and what he can see for himself: a groveling, desperately horny faggot, ready to beg for cock. I suddenly realize he will never see me as anything else. No matter what happens from here on out, I'll always be just an obedient cock slut in his eyes.

The front of my jockstrap is already soaking wet from my precum, and it's obvious to anyone who can see the bulge that my dick is under lock and key. I can't look at Cody or his buddy, instead lowering my eyes to the ground, terrified of what Cody has planned. Instead, I move forward to kneel. That's when I see it. I've been so distracted by Cody and his friend, I haven't paid attention to what is now right in front of me.

The patio light has revealed the object I couldn't make out in the dark. In the spot on the concrete where I usually kneel to wait sits is a short stool with a flat wooden top. Attached to the seat is a dildo - a very large one. It's not as big around as Cody's fat cock, but it's probably several inches longer. It's much bigger than the one I bought to use on myself. This monster must be almost a foot long.

Its presence, along with the couch being moved to face the patio, makes the implication clear. They want me to impale myself on this for their entertainment. I have to fuck myself in front of an audience.

I look inside to the couch were Cody and his buddy are sitting, and make direct eye contact with Cody. I am pleading with him with my eyes, "Please, don't make me do this." His eyes never waver from mine, his gaze burning into my soul. His hand, already in his lap, slowly caresses his crotch, reminding me of what he has hidden there, the dick that I dream about at night. He stares, as if daring me to defy him, reminding me, silently, what saying no would mean. He is challenging me, testing my obedience to him with this task, forcing me to perform such a humiliating act here in front of his friend. This is another of Cody's lessons for me, a clear test not only of my obedience, but my devotion to him, my obsession with serving him.

I lower my gaze. He knows me better than I know myself. Before I realize what I'm doing, I'm moving toward the stool, preparing to skewer myself on this monstrous rubber cock. I try to position myself to take it, only to realize two things: the height of the stool makes the dildo too high to just sit on; and, what's worse, it's dry. I look around, but Cody has left me no lube. I glance at him. He's smirking. That's when I realize he hasn't neglected to lube the dildo -- he did it on purpose. He wants to see how low I will go to amuse him and his friend, to see just how desperate for his cock I really am.

I am ashamed of myself when I find out.

It's humiliating as hell, but there is no choice: I kneel down next to the stool, put the tip of the dildo in my mouth, and begin sucking on it, lubing it up with my saliva. The more of it I can swallow, the more my throat will lubricate its length. I feel like some sort of an animal, kneeling here and sucking on a rubber cock while these two men watch. I glance up at them. They are talking and laughing as they watch me, though I can't hear what they are saying. It doesn't matter. My imagination is quite willing to fill in their comments, none of them flattering. Better that I should try and ignore them, so I concentrate on the dildo, trying to get it all the way down my throat. But no, it is just too big. Unlike Cody's massive cock, the dildo isn't as pliable, isn't shaped right to slide down my throat, but I manage to swallow a good portion of it. When I finally pull off of it, the rubber cock glistens wetly in the porch light. I hope it is enough.

I try to find the right position to take it up my ass, but that's difficult with my hands cuffed behind me. Despite my best efforts, I can't get the angle right, and I can't grab the dildo to maneuver it with my restrained hands. I can see Cody growing impatient out of the corner of my eye, so I finally abandon my last shred of dignity and gingerly climb atop the stool, my feet balanced on the edges of the seat. I position myself carefully over the phallus, until I can feel the tip pressing against my hole. Slowly, carefully, I try to lower myself on to this fat horn of rubber. I feel like a monkey trying to balance on a ball; it's unbelievably humiliating. I can see the men inside, laughing and joking about my predicament. I blush from shame, but by now I am fully committed, the first few inches of the dildo inside me, splitting me apart, provoking involuntary gasps and groans from me. They sound unnaturally loud in the quiet night, so I bite my lip hard, determined to remain silent, in deathly fear of waking Cody's neighbors and being caught like this.

I shift on the stool, trying to ease the dildo further inside me, but the stool is small, and my position on it is precarious, at best. Quick as a wink, I lose my balance, one leg slipping out from underneath me, and, before I can react, I fall onto the dildo, gravity and my own weight driving it deep into my guts. I end up with my feet on the ground, the stool tilted forward on two legs. I am impaled, at least nine inches of the dildo up my ass. Inside, Cody and his jock buddy are cracking up at what happened. I see them high-five each other, like they had figured something like this would happen. This is a degrading torture for me, but it's pure entertainment for these two jocks. As I take a moment to catch my breath and adjust to the rubber invader inside me, I catch a look from Cody, it's meaning clear: I'm not done until I am seated on the stool, the entire length of the dildo lodged inside me.

Slowly, carefully, painfully, I straighten up the stool, the phallus moving in and out of my hole as I do so, my own actions fucking me slow and deep. It's easier now, with so much of it buried in my ass, to position myself correctly. The last few inches are the toughest; this dildo is longer than anything I've ever had inside me. It's pushing into places never touched before, far past the point when I expected it would bottom out. I've never felt penetration like this; the pain spreads through my lower abdomen. I can't take any more, but I am still just shy of being able to sit. I look inside, directly at Cody, silently pleading with him, the torment evident on my face. He smirks, giving me no quarter, as demanding as ever. His hand slowly strokes the hard bulge in his shorts, running halfway across his leg. He's grown hard watching me suffer, watching me abase myself in front of him and his friend. I look at his angelic face, that grin which hides so much cruelty, then down again at the cock I crave, the cock I worship, and that does it. Like magic, my asshole opens and takes the last of the dildo. The very tip of the dildo enters my second sphincter deep inside me. As it does, it forces from my lips a loud groan, the kind that only comes from being stuffed completely full of a big hard cock. The groan echoes off the concrete walls of the patio, loudly enough I'm shocked no one nearby turns on a light or looks out to investigate it.

The hard wood of the stool is pressed against my ass, and I am pinned like a pig on a spit. I hang my head, the shame of it all is almost too much to bear.

I don't know what I expected would happen. Perhaps I have been so caught up in the moment I haven't thought about that, but I am surprised they leave me here like this: impaled, exposed, trapped. With my hands cuffed behind me, and the dildo buried a foot up my ass, there is no way for me to get loose, no way to escape now, even if I want to. The movements required to free myself are impossible now.

I'm going nowhere until Cody decides I am. Another of his lessons for me, no doubt.

It is a special kind torture, sitting here, impaled and helpless, sweating from the stress and the hot night air, watching them inside in air-conditioned comfort, amused at my predicament, ignoring my agony. Even worse, my caged dick has gone into overdrive, throbbing inside its plastic restraint, dripping copious amounts of precum, enough to completely soak the front of my jockstrap and leak out in a long thread onto the pavement.

They leave me, cuffed and stuffed, exposed in the porch light, while they talk and get more beers. I begin to wonder if this is it, if this was all Cody wanted -- to show me off to his friend, to display the desperate faggot that comes running at his beck and call, willing to do anything it takes to serve him. Perhaps that is all I am good for tonight: twisted entertainment for two half-drunk alpha jocks, looking for something different to amuse them late on a Saturday night.

But no. Finally, Cody unlocks the door and they both walk outside. Cody grabs both my nipples and pinches them, pulling them so hard the top half of my body follows him, shifting the dildo deep inside me and eliciting another load groan which echoes in the still night. While Cody holds me by my tits, rolling my delicate nipples between his fingers, the blond walks around behind me. Cody has bent me forward, shifting my weight, as the blond grabs the back legs of the stool and pulls them backwards, sending me toppling forward, the dildo oozing partially out of my hole. I cry out as I fall, gravity stronger than Cody's grip on my nipples. They are jerked from his hands before I land on my knees, my face planted right on Cody's feet.

Cody shoves my head back up, then snaps his fingers and turns around. He walks inside, not even looking back, so confident is he that I'm following. I slowly manage to start crawling behind him, struggling to obey, as if I would consider doing anything else. His buddy follows me in, holding the legs of the stool, using the rubber shaft up my ass to drive me forward, like a cowboy herding livestock.

Once I'm inside, the blond locks the door behind me, then he and Cody lift me up and set the stool upright. When they let go of me, I'm left to slide down the length of the dildo again until I am firmly and securely seated, my insides stretched. Now I understand why Cody used this low stool: it puts me at a good height for his cock. He moves in front of me, the bulge in his grey workout shorts immediately capturing my full attention. He reaches out and grabs my nipples again, dragging me forward by my tits until my face is where I most want it to be -- right against his huge cock. I moan and mouth it greedily, desperate to get it inside me, to be as filled with Cody's manhood as I am with this horrible giant dildo.

Behind me, the blond grabs the legs of the stool and tilts it over again, though this time, I'm prepared and just end up on my knees, my face pressed even more firmly into Cody's crotch. I can feel the dildo snaking its way out of my ass slowly, until the blond guy grabs hold of the legs of the stool again. He uses them to fuck the dildo in and out of my ass, making me groan into Cody's cock. They are laughing about it, laughing at my predicament, commenting to one another as if I was no more than an interactive game they are both playing.

Cody pulls down the front of his gym shorts, hooking the waistband under his balls, slapping me in the side of my face with his cock. My mouth is already open, trying desperately to catch the head of his cock in my mouth. I need it inside me so badly. He teases me with it, rubbing it on my lips, but not allowing me to suck it. I can only stick out my tongue and taste it, feel the heat coming from it, perhaps catch a small drop of his precum and savor it. Finally, he sticks it in my mouth, and I am in paradise. Even with the huge dildo deep in my ass, my mind is focused completely on Cody, on worshiping him; becoming, for this short time, a part of him, as I take him deep, my tongue in overdrive. In seconds, I have the entire length of his cock down my throat, and I am trying to breath around it, my nose buried in his pubic hair. With his pole down my throat and the dildo rammed inside me, I've never felt so full. The blond pulls on the stool until the dildo is almost completely out of my ass, the tip of it just inside my anal ring, then he shoves it back inside me until the wooden stool is against my cheeks. I scream into Cody's cock, making him sigh with pleasure; he enjoys the vibrations of my throat.